


Puppetmaster

by flashforeward



Category: Eerie Indiana
Genre: Angst, Creepy, Dash X theory, Gen, M/M, past Radford/Chisel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 07:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4657035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The master pulls the strings and thus the puppet must dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppetmaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [froodliestfroodle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/froodliestfroodle/gifts).



A twitch here, a tug there. He has perfected his creation and his test has gone perfectly. It's time for him to commence with his plan. The boy - he cannot help but think of his creation as "the boy", as something human, though he knows it is only a well crafted copy. The boy is ready, he is ready. A twitch, a pull, and the little metal-and-flesh puppet that has dubbed itself Dash X - he is glad he gave the boy a brain - rises from the sleeping bag and walks, carefully and precisely, out of the mill and into Eerie's dark, imposing night.

-

As far as Marshall and Simon have been able to discern, nothing weird has happened in Eerie for over a week. Which is, in and of itself, eerie. So they've been on watch. Dash was supposed to be helping them, keeping tabs on the outskirts of Eerie while Mars and Simon worked from within - it had the added benefit of keeping Dash out of people's way, which was generally a good course of action. But Dash hadn't checked in all day. Marshall figures he got bored of it, went back to his usual pursuits. Whatever they were. Petty larceny and being an all around pain in the ass, probably.

Simon, however, is worried.

"This isn't like him, Mars," Simon says as he paces back and forth in the secret spot's cramped space, wringing his hands together.

"It's exactly like him, Simon."

"No, not this, he'd never leave us hanging on something as important as this." Simon's voice is insistent, pleading, and he stops moving, looks up and meets Marshall's eyes and Marshall sees just how deeply Simon believes what he's saying. He has truly convinced himself that Dash wouldn't ditch them on this. Not this.

Poor kid.

"Look, Simon, I know you like to see the best in people-" he starts, but Simon cuts him off with a quick slash of his hand through the air and Mars can only stare because it's so unlike Simon. Forceful and dominating.

Could this be what the lack of weirdness has been leading up to? Something wrong with Simon?

"I know you think I'm naïve, Mars, but that's not what this is about. It's not...It's not seeing the best in Dash, I know he's a jerk and he'd ditch us in a heartbeat on most anything else," Simon stumbles for a second, closes his eyes, swallows, pops his eyes back open and continues, his voice surprisingly steady. "But not on something like this, Mars, not on something Eerie."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because any answer to the questions we have about Eerie could be an answer to a question he has about himself."

Here's Simon, voicing the self absorbed reasonings of Dash X, staring at Mars with wide, honest eyes, speaking as though there isn't anything the matter with it. As if it doesn't just reinforce Marshall's own conclusions about Dash and his particular interest in his own skin over that of anyone else. But how can Marshall bring that to Simon's attention now? Destroy the raw trust he sees in Simon's eyes, the deep belief he has that Dash would be there if he could and since he's not something must be wrong?

He can't.

"You're right, Simon," he says, standing. "Let's go find Dash."

-

The boy is so much harder to manipulate than he expected. He's actually fighting the control, struggling against the strings as they tug him onward to an outcome he knows nothing about. This is interesting. This isn't what he'd had in mind when he created this one. This boy. He's never had any problems with the prototypes, so what then is this? What did he do differently here? What went wrong?

And more to the point, how can he fix it before it destroys his plans entirely?

-

Dash isn't in the Mill. And he isn't at the World O' Stuff, which is closed anyway, but it's Dash so it isn't like that would actually have stopped him. Mars is starting to get actually and honestly worried now - not just frustrated that Dash left them hanging, disappeared when they needed him again - but really and truly concerned that something has happened to Dash this time. Something he and Simon won't be enough to stop.

That's never occurred to him before, and as he and Simon trek back through the darkness into town, he dwells on it. They're kids, all of them. Even with Dash, is that really enough to combat whatever is going on in this town? Have they taken on more than they can handle? Not just this time, but in general? And Simon is nine. Nine. A whole four years younger than Mars and Dash and they frequently put him at risk in their investigations.

No.

Mars frequently puts him at risk in their investigations.

For the first time in a long time, Marshall feels the heavy weight of the burden he has chosen to carry. And as he glances at Simon, he thinks he sees the effect of it on the younger boy's shoulders as well.

And Marshall wonders if they shouldn't find an adult to pass this on to, someone who can actually handle this.

-

Up the stairs one painful step at a time, turn the doorknob. It gets harder with each command as if the boy is aware and fighting. But he gets the boy into the room, across the hardwood, over the bed, looking down at the face he hasn't seen sleeping in so many years.

He regrets this. He does, really. They were best friends once. Lovers almost. But now. Now he has to take out the threat before it brings him down, and that means sacrificing whatever they once were.

And the boy is perfect for it. No one likes him, no one trusts him, no one will be surprised.

So he raises the boy's arm, opens his mouth and makes him speak, "Hello, old friend." It's a whisper, but the sleeper wakes, eyes flashing open. He catches the boy's hand, fights against the pressure there, holds the boy's gaze.

And together, old and young, they push him out.

-

This time when they pass the World O' Stuff the lights are on. Inside, they find Radford behind the ice cream counter and Dash sitting with his head in his hands staring down at an untouched milkshake like it holds the answers to the universe. The places to his left are set with a black cow and a ditto, and Mars silently leads Simon over to take their seats.

They sit quietly, waiting. It's hard, Marshall finds, not to start interrogating Dash immediately, not to demand answers. Simon seems to have no trouble with it, with letting explanations come in their own times.

"What the hell was that?" Dash finally asks, raising his head slowly and meeting Radford's gaze.

"That, my young friend, was some house cleaning."

It's about as much of an honest answer as Mars ever expected, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from asking what exactly happened anyway.

Not that he has to, in the end.

Dash stands, knocking his stool back, fists clenched at his sides. "I'm no one's puppet," he growls through clenched teeth, glaring at Radford.

Radford gives a quick nod. "And you proved that tonight," he says. "If you were truly a puppet, I'd be dead."

That revelation sits heavily on the gathering, three children and the one adult willing to stand with them.

-

Elsewhere, he roars. He rages. He throws his controls aside, useless now, he may as well break them. He'd done everything perfectly, even modeled the creature after those damned aliens so the blame would fall on them. But something went wrong. The boy fought back and Radford helped him. Thwarted again.

He sits, presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. Perhaps, he thinks, Radford knows him too well now. Sees all his moves before even he does. Perhaps he should have taken care of this long ago, when they first started to drift apart. Or when Radford was hesitant about the harvest king.

Perhaps he should have seen it coming, should have known that in the end it would have been him against Radford.

He should have known in the end he'd have to do take care of this himself.

 

**Coda**

He sees what went wrong later that week, giving an address to the town at the grand reopening of the Eerie Deli. He sees the boys, the three of them, clustered together off to the side. He never expected that, never thought that would be a problem, considering the personality the boy had developed. Yet there it is, plain as day, and if he had any heart left it would probably ache at the loss those three remind him of.

Friendship.


End file.
